The Other Sorcerer's Stone
by Dani Pink Cloud
Summary: What if everything had been different, if Harry had gone over to the Dark Side, right from the beginning?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Because not only would that be plagiarizing, that would also be illegal. Owning other people is frowned upon in most countries, for those who weren't aware.**

**The Other Sorcerer's Stone**

_What if it had all been different, if Harry had gone evil, right from the beginning?..._

_**Chapter 1**_

It was his birthday. July 31. A day like any other . . . but not for Harry.

Today was the day that Harry had found out that he was a wizard.

As he pondered the amazingness of it all, he stood in front of a brick wall, watching Hagrid touch seemingly random bricks with the tip of his large, pink umbrella. And then it opened up, and Harry was amazed again - for the third time that day. First when Hagrid had barged in, second when he had told Harry he was a wizard, and third, right now.

The bricks opened up to form a beautiful, perfect arch. He glanced over his shoulder - how could no one be noticing this? But no one inside the Leaky Cauldron seemed to mind the fact that a brick wall had opened up by itself and revealed a whole new world.

Harry stared around him, soaking up the sights and sounds. Little shops lined the broad cobblestone street, and people in the same strange style of clothing as those in the Leaky Cauldron walked the street, talking amongst themselves happily. Harry heard one angry woman - no, witch, he reminded himself - muttering something like "Newt eye prices, up so high . . ." as she marched out of the Apothecary.

"Better stop here first," Hagrid said casually. Apparently he didn't mind the fact that there was a whole new world back here either.

"Does everyone know about this place?" Harry asked in wonder.

"Diagon Alley? No. On'y wizards can get back here. And witches," he added quickly as a passing witch gave him a pointed glare. "Sorry, Madame Higgle!" he called after her. "She's real feminist, ya know," Hagrid informed Harry. Then, louder, he said, "Come on, Harry!"

People stared. Mutters filled the air of Diagon Alley - "Harry? Harry Potter? Is he here?" They peered at him closely, staring at his forehead. Harry ducked his head and tried to hide behind Hagrid and his huge overcoat.

"Oh," Hagrid said just before they could take refuge inside the dingy Apothecary. "Ya need money, dontcha?" He grabbed Harry by the shoulder and propelled him forward. "We'll need t' go t' Gringotts."

"What's Gringotts?" Harry asked quietly. He still refused to look up, for fear of seeing all the people watching him. It was creepy, honestly.

"That there is Gringotts," Hagrid said, tilting Harry's face up forcibly. Harry almost complained, but then he realized what he was seeing. He gasped. On the corner of an intersection of a few small alleyways, right beside the rest of the dingy little shops, was a giant, pure white building. In gold letters was inscribed, "Gringotts Wizard Bank."

"Wow," Harry breathed.

"Yep, purty neat. Plus, its run by goblins," Hagrid added excitedly.

"Goblins?" Harry asked curiously.

"Ah, yeh'll see." Hagrid pulled him across the intersection, up the white marble steps, and into the bank. Inside, little creatures sat behind high desks and led clients around the lobby, mostly through a door into someplace Harry couldn't see into, no matter how hard he tried. The creatures were humanoid, but their faces had different features and they had long fingers and feet. And of course, they were about half the size of Harry, who, besides the goblins, was the smallest one there.

"Yeh don't wanna mess with goblins," Hagrid warned Harry. "See that there?" He pointed to an inscription on the wall, and Harry read it. It was a poem, warning people of the dangers of stealing from the bank. It was rather intimidating.

Hagrid led Harry up to one of the high desks. Harry could not see over, and a goblin with a long nose and beady, mean-looking eyes peered over at him.

"We'd like ter open Harry Potter's vault," Hagrid said politely.

"Harry Potter," the goblin breathed softly. "The Boy Who Lived." His eyes seemed to be drilling through Harry's forehead, and Harry pushed his hair out of the way of his scar. The goblin admired it.

"Griphook, the key, please?" Hagrid asked, less polite of a tone this time. Griphook, the goblin, tore his eyes away from Harry and retrieved the key quickly.

"Anything else?" he asked coolly.

"Oh. Yeah. Erm, I need to open vault 713," Hagrid said. "Hogwarts business."

Griphook nodded and retrieved the second key. "Ready now!" Hagrid told him.

Griphook nodded again and disappeared. He reappeared moments later at Harry's side.

"Follow me, Potter. Hagrid," he added. Harry glanced nervously at Hagrid, but he was shoved forward. They passed through the door Harry had noticed before into a dark place, much less fancy and professional than the lobby. "Step in," Griphook commanded. He gestured at a small, unstable-looking cart that had just rattled up on a track of its own accord.

Harry's eyes went wide. He glanced at Hagrid frantically. Hagrid nodded encouragingly, and Harry stepped gingerly into the cart.

Nothing happened. He was fine. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

But then Hagrid got in, followed by Griphook. The cart took off, going from 0 to 60 miles per hour within less than 20 seconds. They raced down steep hills and made sharp turns, flashing past doors and mysterious passageways. Once, Harry caught sight of some flames. He wondered if it was a dragon.

Turning to Hagrid curiously, ready to ask, Harry opened his mouth. But Hagrid shook his head. "I shouldn' be openin' my mouth righ' now," he shouted over the loud wind.

**A/N: Sorry if that was boring. I needed to lead up to the main event, y'see. Move along to the next chapter, now! Or you could review first...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I (still) don't own Harry Potter.**

_**Chapter 2**_

Green in the face, Hagrid stepped gingerly from the cart, muttering something about being "too old fer this."

Griphook held up one finger. "No need," he told Hagrid as he stepped up to the door of the vault. Vault 713. "Hogwarts business," Hagrid had said. Harry wondered what he could mean . . . But even though Griphook had discouraged him, Hagrid was already standing by the door, and Harry had stepped up to try peering around Hagrid's bulk of a body.

"Only a goblin can do this," Griphook bragged. Then he added warningly, "If a human tries, he gets sucked in. Stuck forever." He cackled grimly.

"How do you know if someone gets stuck inside?" Harry asked nervously.

Griphook grinned evilly. "We don't."

"Then how do they get out?"

"They don't."

"Oh," Harry said softly. Griphook, rather intimidating, grinned even wider, then turned back to the door. He stroked it carefully with his long index finger, and the door swung open. Inside, they saw a vault: stone and high-ceilinged. But this one was empty.

Harry shot Hagrid a confused glance, but Hagrid nodded at Griphook, saying, "Yeah, that's it."

Peering back into the vault, now Harry noticed a tiny, grubby package lying alone on the floor. His eyes widened, and he took another step towards the package. It lured him closer and closer until he stood in the doorway of the vault, blocking Griphook's way out.

"I want the package," he said in a voice totally unlike his own.

"You are not the withdrawer," Griphook informed him calmly. "You would be stealing if you were to take this. And you saw the warning."

In the same strange, raspy voice, Harry said, "I suppose I'm a thief, then." And he snatched the package out of Griphook's unsuspecting hands.

Harry bolted. He sprinted up the steep, narrow track for the carts, breathing heavily and trying to tear open the little package as he evaded Griphook. Goblins could run impressively quickly. Harry sped up, and Hagrid was left alone, deep inside Gringotts, with the empty, open vault.

Suddenly there was noise. Sirens. Different from the Muggle variety Harry knew, but certainly sirens. A voice shouted over the speakers - or was it magic? Harry wondered randomly - but Harry did not have time to listen. All he could identify was his own name. Repeating. Over and over.

But that didn't matter, because now the paper covering the little package was gone, and in Harry's hand was a shiny, red stone. It flickered in the light of the torches that lit the passageways of Gringotts.

Harry ducked into an archway, a deep one that narrowed to a tiny, goblin-sized door. Admiring the stone, he turned it over and over in his hands. He wondered what it was, why he - and everyone else, apparently - had wanted it so much, and how it had lured him into stealing it . . .

Footsteps, pounding on the stone, plus the rattling sound of the cart on its track, echoed around Harry. Eyes wide, heart pounding, his mind raced - how to keep the stone?

Moments later, a cart containing four goblins, Griphook included, rounded the corner. Hagrid, with his heavy, clumsy gait, was not far behind. Harry stood out in the open by his archway-hiding place, his head bowed.

"Here's the thief!" cried Griphook, leaping out of his cart at Harry.

"No, no!" Hagrid was sobbing between pants. "He's on'y a kid! He's on'y eleven!"

Harry was silent.

Griphook asked Hagrid coldly, "Why, then, did he steal the Sor - thing?" He seemed to have thought better of saying something; his eyes darted over to Harry for a second. Harry perked up, curious, but still said nothing.

Hagrid shouted something back about some Imperial Curse or something. It was then that Harry realized just how much he did not know. He had no money, no wand, and no knowledge. He couldn't even be sure he had magic. He blushed, his face turning red as other goblins handcuffed him, and Hagrid and Griphook argued.

But Harry was still silent.

Goblins were pushing him, and Harry wanted to complain, but he didn't dare. He let them shove him into the cart. Apparently Griphook had won the argument, or at least reached a compromise, because he climbed calmly in after Harry. Hagrid was left to follow along in a separate cart that had arrived for him of its own accord.

"Summon Dumbledore," Griphook commanded another goblin emotionlessly.

**A/N: Hope this chapter was better. Reviews are much appreciated! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Are these things really even necessary? By now you should have figured out...I'm not J.K.R. WAIT! Has there been a metamorphosis?...Nope. Still don't own HP.**

_**Chapter 3**_

Harry sat, confined to a single room furnished with just one chair. His hands were tied - and in this case, that was not an expression. Through the glass wall, he watched Hagrid and Griphook arguing about him. He could practically hear their words, even though someone had mentioned that this glass was supposed to be soundproof.

Entertained, Harry watched as the fight started to get physical. Hagrid towered over Griphook, wielding his giant pink umbrella.

And then they went silent.

Hagrid straightened up, tucking his pink umbrella into the folds of his overcoat guiltily. Griphook turned to stare at somebody, the same emotionless look on his face as always. Harry read his lips as he said, "Hello, Dumbledore."

A tall man in midnight blue robes and a tall, matching hat swooshed into Harry's view. He had long, silver hair and a beard to match, and he wore half-moon glasses that covered up his twinkling, blue eyes. He acted kindly, but at the same time like royalty. Harry liked him instantly.

There was a short dialogue between the threesome outside - well, mainly between Dumbledore and Griphook; Hagrid stood respectfully off to the side. Then they turned to Harry and walked into the room, passing straight through the glass. Harry gaped - it had been weird enough passing through it himself; watching others walk through, making the glass ripple, was even stranger.

"Hello, Harry," Dumbledore said genially. He held out his hand for Harry to shake. But Harry's hands were bound, so he just nodded politely.

"Oh! Goodness," Dumbledore exclaimed, upset. He turned on Griphook. "Why is this boy tied?"

"He's a thief," Griphook said simply.

"I do not believe he could be up to anything in this little cell," Dumbledore said coldly. From the folds of his robes, he pulled out a wooden stick - a wand, Harry presumed - and waved it over Harry's hands. The ropes binding him slithered away from his wrists, and Harry stretched gratefully. He tried to express his thanks with just a smile.

"Shy, then, Harry? You're quiet," Dumbledore noticed. Harry decided to play along with it. He ducked his head, nodding.

"Hmm," Dumbledore said, nodding. "You need not be afraid, Harry. Well, not of me," he laughed. The goblins glared at him, but Dumbledore ignored them. "So, Harry, will you answer some questions for me?"

Harry didn't know what to do, so he was silent and made no movement.

"Alright, then. I suppose I will have to cut to the chase. Where is the stone?" Dumbledore asked, his voice a little sharper now.

Harry tried to look innocent. He shrugged silently.

"Do you mean to say that you stole the stone and then _lost _it?"

Harry hesitated, thinking, and then nodded.

Dumbledore sighed, muttering something under his breath. At first Harry watched, excited, under the impression that it was a spell. But nothing happened, and Harry realized that Dumbledore had been cursing. He was fascinated by the fact that curse words didn't have to be bellowed. Maybe one day he should suggest this to Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia.

Thinking about that had distracted Harry. He blinked to refocus on Dumbledore, who was now speaking with Griphook in a calm, low voice.

"No, we cannot let a thief leave unpunished. We saw him, he stole it in front of our very eyes!" a rather infuriated Griphook was objecting.

"He _lost _it, Griphook," Dumbledore quietly insisted. "Trust me - I know." He winked at Griphook conspiratorially.

"Why should I trust you? You are a wizard; I am a goblin. We do not trust wizards, ever; you know that. Why, then, do you think you are the exception? Get out, wizard, GET OUT!" Griphook spat the last sentence.

Dumbledore sighed. "I had hoped it would not come to this. Oh, well. All right, Griphook, I shall leave. I hope you don't mind me taking your captive here with me." He gestured at Harry.

But Griphook was still angrily ranting about goblins' rights and how wizards stole everything and other such things that Harry did not understand.

Dumbledore shrugged. "Well, come along, Harry." He led Harry through the glass, which felt like stepping through a wave of ice water. "Hagrid, you too," Dumbledore added. Hagrid joined their group.

Just as Dumbledore was gently pushing Harry, who was dumbstruck, out the door, Griphook came running after them, shouting and shoving through the crowd of delayed clients. "NO! You can't do that! You cannot just -" Griphook blustered.

Dumbledore, calm and collected as ever, shrugged, causing his midnight blue robes to ripple. With a voice as smooth as the silk he wore, he pointed out, "You told me to leave. Ordered me, rather; it was not very polite, but I shall choose to ignore that factor."

If physics could allow steam to come out of someone's ears, it would have happened to Griphook as he exhaled angrily and slowly. Judging from the color his face had turned, one might think he was going to explode - but Harry knew better; living with Uncle Vernon had taught him that much. "I did not authorize you to take the boy," Griphook said through gritted teeth.

"Oh? I believe I asked you . . ." Dumbledore said thoughtfully.

"And _I _believe I did not answer, certainly not in the affirmative."

"True. You seemed too angry; I figured I should take dear Harry off your hands. I _am _sorry," Dumbledore apologized.

But politeness was wasted on the goblin. Ignoring the apology, he snapped, "You cannot take the boy."

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "I have said this already, but I shall repeat myself. I had hoped it would not come to this."

Then he seized Harry's shoulder and, turning on a dime as if to walk out the door, disappeared, pulling Harry with him into oblivion.

**A/N: Hope you liked it! Sorry it took a while to be posted; it's hard when the only writing you do is in school. Anyway, reviews are much appreciated!**


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